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Chapter 4



Date: Saturday,  02 October 1999,  07:19pm,  Subject: “Torrentially“

It’s raining torrentially. There is a lot of wind, too. I’m in bed watching television, looking at my window which is full of leaves which have stuck to the glass.

Rain drops are falling from the wooden ceiling of my room. Could it be a broken shingle?

Wherever you are, a hug.



Date: Saturday,  09 October 1999,  06:14pm,  Subject: “Tsarinas“

A while back I did something which I disapprove of. I did it because my curiosity would comfort the ego of your “Tsarinas”. They are evident in your “guest book”. They seem to be Ok and like you a lot J. Lucky boy!

The sample I’m going to give you contains only tree Tsarinas.

One of them is quite proud. She’s French and it was difficult consoling her after you guys broke up because she always wanted to have the upper hand in the situation: She ended up saying that she did not love you, that she just liked the songs you sung in French and that for her everything was a game of power and seduction. In the end, she insulted you saying, “He sings about love, but he doesn’t know how to love! He is a manipulator!”  (Love… love is beautiful!... She still likes you, don’t worry – I say)

There is a second princess…this one with whom you share a birthday. You have already met personally and when this happened you were the first to mention this: the shared birthday! You told her that she wrote very well. She would say she was anxious to be with you for at least a few days and added, “He can teach me a lot of things.” (No, no! No, I’m not being malicious… nor was she… being a minor and all…)

There is a third one that talks about you saying how much she misses you, how much she’d like you to go to her house for dinner again: just the two of you! I congratulated her on her ability to convince you to have dinner at her house. She said that she had tried on many attempts, but concluded, “I’m capable of anything! And I got him to have dinner with me...”

You’re not offended by my “invasion” of privacy, are you? You’re the best!

A hug




Date: Saturday, 16  October 1999,  10:38pm,  Subject: “Clarity“

Today I was fixated on the light coming from the street lamp outside my bedroom window. I thought about you… your music… your inspirations…

An artist is a dependent being… Artists live by the light of a street lamp at night, with some luck, an artist can live by the light provided solely by the moon…but life, comes from the sun.

What am I saying here? Whatever... I think it´s sleep talking here… I’m already in bed... I´m gone. A kiss.



Date: Saturday, 23  October 1999,  09:14am,  Subject: “London”

We’ve got roasted chestnuts in the fireplace, do you want some? Oh! That’s right… you’re not around… You’re in London! A hug



Date: Monday, 01  November 1999,  09:59am,  Subject: “Writing a Book“

Should I continue writing to you or not? I’ve written so much already…

You don’t need to say anything! I will continue to send you emails, presuming that your response to my question was yes. If it was no, let me live in my delusion, let me keep writing… maybe this will become a book one day! If I write this book one day, will we be together? Or will our second meeting never come?

In a few years…what will become of you?... what will become of me?...



Date:   Tuesday, 02  November 1999,  10:18pm,  Subject: “☺“

Hello! Do you want to throw a book at my head? I’ll let you…

…To wake me up to reality. It would give me a headache! It would wake me up to the reality! Ow, ow…it hurts!

You wanna know something about me? I’d love to be rich!… I’d travel to exotic paradises… I’d also consider more serious things such as creating jobs for others by starting some sort of company…or the like…

Being rich must be good… but what I’d really love would be to meet people with supernatural powers… especially curers…

Is everything alright with you?  A hug.



Date: Wednesday, 03  November 1999   09:34pm,  Subject: “To Be Happy”

A colleague of mine at work (who is also my friend) considers her difficulties in the area of love to be: something complicated. I gave her a book in which the author guides the reader on a path towards finding happiness using a series of suggestions. The book is over 100 pages. The author is a psychoanalyst.

In the preface of the book was a promise that this book would rapidly change the life of those who read it…

It didn’t change my life because I continue to write to you. My friend’s life continues the same also.

Around me everything remains the same or maybe it’s me that continues to see things in the same light. I don’t know…

The book quotes Plato, “A man who does not risk anything for his ideas either has no ideas of value or is not worth anything as a man.”

Further into the book, the author defends the idea that many desire “love” in their lives to obtain compassion from their lover that they cannot find in themselves. They desire a “love” because they want to be someone’s center of attention. This because they do not accept themselves for who they are.

Further into the book the author also says that psychological suffering, or neurosis, exists because man knows he is going to die.

Life is messed up, don’t you think? J I am very philosophical today...

Do you know something? Do you know what you and I are going to do today? We’re going to have a treatment! What type of treatment do you have in mind?

I’m thinking of giving you a treatment of paradoxical sentences! (Like I said, I’m feeling philosophical today...)

Here it is: “God is not an all-powerful being because He cannot construct a barrier that He cannot transpose” (Pascal). Here’s another: “A man who fears suffering is already suffering because of his fear” (Montaigne). And finally this one: “Tra-la-la, peace and love, life is beautiful... although sometimes I feel like shouting and flying high in the air that easily lifts me higher" (Ninfa Artemis).



Date: Friday, 05  November 199,  11:51pm,  Subject: “No keys“

...Last night, I came to the following conclusion: I lost my car keys. Meanwhile, a friend of mine ended up driving me home (9km away) so I could get my extra car keys.

Shortly before going to bed, I decided to check my purse once again and, lo and behold, there were my keys. They had been in my purse the whole time. The lining of the purse was torn and they keys were hidden between the lining and the leather.

I was so upset by this that I accidentally ended up spilling some hot tea on my cat, who was sleeping near me. Then, the cat got angry…



Date: Saturday, 06  November 1999,  02:08am,  Subject: Re: “No keys“

You conquer me with few words.

How do you do that? Where are you? A kiss



Date: Saturday, 06  November 1999   11:12am,  Subject:   “I´m here...“

....Where am I?!... I don’t understand... I’m almost always at home or at work…The weather has been terrible, lately.

I’m not on vacation, so I don’t have many options: either at home, or at work. Sometimes I go out for a bit, but I’m always near. Why do you ask? Do you have something in mind?

Here is more proof that I’ve been spending a lot of time at home: I’m knitting a sweater which will have (when complete) thousands of loops of yarn… So, I haven’t gone far... And you, where have you been? Are you still in London? A hug



Date:Thursday, 11 November 1999,  01:04am,  Subject:“Fixed and unwavering idea”

I’m going to try to write you something erotic this weekend.

What was your most recent fixed and unwavering idea? Just curious…



Date: Saturday, 13 November 1999   11:01pm,  Subject: “Erotic Story“

Erotic story: wine, music and a car cruising at a speed of 200km/h with no obstructions. You and me.



Date: Sunday, 14 November 1999,  01:10am,   Subject: “Hardening“

Another “erotic” story follows.

In regards to eroticism, this is the best I could come up with. Today I’m not up for eroticisms. I’ve got a terrible headache. I was out in the rain picking passion fruit. I let the heat from my body dry my clothes. I think I caught a cold.

I love passion fruit. I also like cherries, pomegranates, figs, plums, raspberries, blackberries and I love persimmons.

Here is the “erotic” story:

"You, Me naked, Hardening of the crystal hieroglyph, That’s your part, Your eyes, My body, Desire, I die, I can’t take it, I want to get on top, Of that hard hieroglyph, Go up to it who says, You…"



Date: Wednesday, 17 November 1999   02:09am,  Subject: Re: “Hardening“

Sorry but Marlene and Marcia write better!!!!



Date: Wednesday, 17 November 1999   09:11pm,  Subject: “You”

Look, sweetie... sometimes life is a slutty stepmom and now you’ve decided to fuck that slut too?

Oh my God! I use curse words! Look, another side of me! Don’t you like it?

I know that you have a lot of girls writing you. You’re lucky.... If you want to judge who is better or worse, that’s your business. You have an opinion, just like everyone does.

I think you’re suffering from an illness. Do you know what this illness is called? Being spoiled! You have the illness of being spoiled. Or, let’s go out and say it, you are a spoiled brat. You have money, success... you don’t have problems, with the exception of those which come up trying to maintain your success and deciding who to fuck each night.

Since when do you care about what they write? What you want is to fuck. You know that, right? Go have a fuck, ok?

Yes, go fuck some others, sweetie... not me... I’m on my period...

You think you’re so wild… that you’re a rare bird… look: bullshit and tits!

Your problem is too many tits! You’re a womanizer… They lie to you to please you… And then, you go crazy? They say you’re the best, and you believe them?! Then, you get spoiled, right?

I could be mean now, beseech a curse, wish you to be impotent for the rest of your life... but I won’t... I’m a good girl... stay calm…. ok? Hug



Date: Thursday, 18 November 1999   00:19am,  Subject: Re: “ You“

Frequently, roman emperors would choose many women, and little boys, and announce from their dining room sofas that those were the chosen for that evening. The only thing they wouldn’t give was their cellphone number...

I just sent you mine in a separate email. Kisses



Date: Thursday, 18 November 1999,  09:09pm,  Subject: “Orgies“

In sequence to our telephone call, I didn’t quite understand what game is being played here and I don’t know why. In any case, this sequence of events is beyond me and confuses me. I don’t know where to go in this story. Although I can always be a part of any story. I understood that you are not always yourself.

If you think I’m crazy, I will start thinking you are also, but there is one difference: I’m amusing and I don’t harm anyone.

Kisses and good orgies.



Date:   Friday, 19 November 1999,  03:08am,   Subject:Re: “Orgies”

I think I frightened you. Today, when I saw your message, I’m sure I did. I frightened you. I scared you by showing you the commonplace.

She (you) do the following: provoke and then, your strategy to run from the scare: you provoke again. Provoking, always, no matter what the situation may be.

Here you have a text of mine to one who does not get scared and always wants more. All he needs to do is want it and she will…

I’m going to analyze the text that follows, in order for you not to get scared by what you read…

            Dear Marcia,

« Strong message, don’t you think? He’s provoking her...desire... it is said in an ordinary tone...

No, no I’m not married. Nor divorced. Nor separated. I’m single. And you? Have you got a boyfriend? « He responds and asks a question…

I wish you were here with me today, by my side, listening to the songs I just recorded. I’ve got some percussionists with me. I merged them to a British string quartet and the sound from my rock band. Over it all, my voice. This mix is revealing itself to be rock-magic. I would like to deposit these sounds in you. Listen to them with you. Speak them with you. Then, we would enter pleasure. No, not that type of love, not biased or prejudiced love. The other love.

I would like to know what you have to tell me about my songs. Love you in the breaks. Possess you. From behind. Hold you by the neck and hurting you, penetrate you. You say that you like it, although you suffer. Drink from me.

«There is a difference between making love, having sex and fucking. Taking into account this hierarchy, the message refers to the latter. In regards to your previous email, aside from the insults, I liked it. I still don’t know how many points to give each insult… I’m going to wait for more replies…



Date: Friday, 19 November 1999,  07:56pm,  Subject: “Hacker“


I want to thank you for the singer’s phone number that you provided me with. You forgot to indicate the best time to call, “This is not the time for those types of questions…” is what I heard.

I will conclude by saying, to you, hacker, that I was not scared by the text you showed me about Marcia: “Possess you. From behind. Hold you by the neck and hurting you, penetrate you. You say that you like it, although you suffer. Drink from me.”

I wasn’t scared because I don’t run the risk of something like this happening to me. This Marcia, or any other one, should tear the soles of his shoes to the point that he no longer has shoes to walk in.

In regards to you, singer… I’ll be waiting for your replies. Don’t take too long.

Do you know the expression: “Tired of waiting around to be straddled?”



Dialogue 8 *work colleague* Tuesday,  23 November 1999  09:10pm

- Hello miss famously photogenic singer!

- Me? Photogenic?! Since when? You’re the one that’s super photogenic. Actually, today you’re looking extremely provocative… You’re going to have a whole lot of people looking at you!

- I love it when people notice me! I don’t have any problem with that! I would definitely make a good famous person! I would give interviews all the time, everywhere I went. I would have some great poses for the paparazzi. I would be on the cover of all the magazines, both big and small!... I’m not zealous of my private life! Fuck my private life! I would make everything public! I would pose nude for magazines like Playboy! I would have a lot of money. I would live the good life!!

- I would love to be you. You can’t even imagine the mess I’m in the middle of! You want to call me little angel, like you usually do? Go ahead. Call me little angel... I don’t even care anymore…

- But why? Did someone do something to you?! The singer?

- ...I have a feeling that I’m going to have to change the direction of my story because the singer seems to want to write it spasmodically... It is not obeying my will... I’m going to have to go through a metanoia in order to avoid the spasms.

- Things must be really complicated! I didn’t understand a word you just said! You are going to go through a what?! Tetanoia?! Pepanoia?! Or was it paranoia?

- Metanoia, without going into great detail, is more or less this: a change in the way of thinking and feeling, on a spiritual level, on a path to perfection. I’m going to go for perfection. Since others won’t, I will

- My dear metanoia! You could have found a nicer name for yourself. For example, you could have said metamorphosis! Just look at the state my little angel is in!... She’s so sad!... Forget going for perfection and try getting out of the house more often… Having fun!

- What do you say we get some rum raisin ice cream with hot chocolate syrup? I’d love to understand why the consumption of sugar makes your ass big but not your tits! My tits don’t get any bigger!

- You’ve got to tell me what the singer guy rigged up… Your problems are starting, but they’ll be ending soon... From now on things will either happen or they won’t…

- I fear I´m going to crash into broken-down, dizzy, decrepit, weird, impote moments…

- Crash into what? Who is giving you weird impotent moments? I don’t understand what... did you just say the singer became weird and impotent?!

- I didn´t say that honey!

- It’s like I’m going deaf! Maybe I got too much water in my ears when I was taking a shower this morning! My ears seem to be all clogged!... The singer is revealing himself to you, in a way that you don’t like, right? You’ve got to change the way you see the world: you have too many fantasies, illusions and who knows what else… Life is beautiful but, in any case, you have to be prepared to be slapped around once in a while or sometimes even a lot…

- How are things going with the guy with the athletic body?

- I’m trying a new approach...

- When you have that look on your face you’re usually setting something up…

- They set me up all the time!

- But has this one started to show signs of discrepancies? Of being an asshole?

- No, before he had the opportunity to start acting like an asshole, I started being a super asshole to him... Every time he’d ask me if the sex was good, I’d say: “Yes, it was good but next time it’ll be better. I adore you! I love you! I’d do anything for you!”

- I adore you?! I love you?! You use those types of sentences?! I had no idea...

- Why shouldn’t I lie to him once in a while?! They do the same! Actually, men are a race of chronic liars! He doesn’t like it very much when I say, “It’ll be better next time!”... But, since his self-esteem is low, instead of sending me to hell he tries to put more “effort” into it the following time. You get it? Then, since I’m always telling him how much I love him, he forgives me! I’m so sweet...

- He’s single? Uncompromised?

- Of course he is! I don’t get involved with men who are married or have a girlfriend. I have a code of conduct. In fact, I find betrayals revolting! They remind me of my previous marriage.... my ex-husband. He was extremely unfaithful. The shit he’d set me up with. You wouldn’t even be able to imagine some of the stuff! It was traumatizing shit!... Moving on to something more cheerful... Let’s eat our rum raisin ice cream covered in hot chocolate syrup! Now tell me: what did the singer make up lately? Did he fuck your angel´s mind too heavily?

- I brought some emails… those that show the dling of the fleas in this story.

- You come up with some good ones… the dling of the fleas!

- Fleas have bells in their legs... which make a noise (dling) as they wander through this story… I don’t even know what to tell you... Maybe this story of mine with the singer is really going to end up in nothing, like you’ve said all along...

- Well…tell me! What happened?

- It comes in response to some of the replies that he sent me to some emails I sent him, but the height of the flea madness was when I called him...

- He gave you his phone number?! Finally! I like him better now...

- He denies ever giving me his phone number, do you know that? He says that it was some hacker that got into his email and as if that weren’t enough, he denies having received any email of mine from September to now! What do you think about that?

- Explain yourself better!... He lied to you?! Why did he lie? So strange. How exactly did this go down?

- I don´t know. Maybe in order to safeguard his good image, and so that everything would return to normal, he has denied having received or sent any emails since September…

- If that’s true it just goes to show that he has no character: he messes up and denies it. He acts like he’s so well educated in his interviews when in reality he’s just another rotten apple, like so many others. Be careful with those who live for appearance… Tell me, was it because of this singer that you had a death-look on your face at work a few days ago?

- My face was the face of someone who was exhausted due to lack of sleep and catching cold after cold… I’ve always been really healthy… I never got sick, but I think that because of this whole mess, my nerves were on edge and my defenses were down…

- My poor little angel…. She’s so fragile... She gets so deluded… Are you better now?

- No, sugary hot sweetie… I’m not any better and I don’t know what to do with my life. Now it’s hard to get off the bandwagon because I’ve grown fond of him… I became addicted to writing him...

- Honey, find new addictions. It’s the easiest thing to do...

- Did you know that the fortune teller said that I had some telepathic abilities?

- What?! How cute! I’m going to start calling you paranormal angel!

- In regards to my future, she told me not to worry, that when I felt lost that I would be guided by the sky and would know what I had to do to help myself. She also said that my paranormal gifts would gradually awaken and intensify... especially in times of crisis and suffering.

- That’s really cute! This fortune teller should turn herself into a writer… she has a vivid imagination.

- She also told me to keep my heart open because when you least expect it destiny sends the answers you are looking for.

- Very well! When will you tell me, my paranormal angel, what really happened between you and the singer this time?

- He sent me a weird email saying: “You conquer me with few words. How do you do that? Where are you?” Can you imagine: few words!!! My emails are full or words!!! Unless he’s referring to our meeting in May in which I hardly spoke...

- Why does he ask where you are?

- I don’t get that one… since he didn´t propose a new meeting…

- No more ice cream! How about some crepes? I want one with cherry filling! How about you, paranormal angel?

- Good idea! Crepes always lift things up!

- He asked you where you were, then what?

- Then nothing! Everything is very strange! I didn’t know where to go from there so in order to stop the monotony, I promised to write him an erotic story. Although I wasn’t very inspired on the day that I wrote it, I think the story actually turned out well. His reply to that email was phenomenal!

- Seriously?! He got excited?!

- His response was: “Sorry, but Marlene and Marcia write better!” After the word better he added four exclamation marks!

- Who are Marlene and Marcia?!

- How should I know!

- I think he said that to get a rise out of you. He wanted you to write something more provocative or maybe he’s just playing you. What was your reply to that email?

- I gave him a good reply. I showed him that I had some balls...

- That’s a good one! You’ve got balls!! That makes two of us! That’s right girl! Being a goodie two shoes gets you nowhere!

- I was bothered or hurt by the stupidity of his email… I don’t know which... The email he sent in reply to my reply about “Marcia and Marlene” came quick…

- What did he say?

- He said that he would proceed as was typical in Roman times, in other words, proclaim from his sofa that this person or that person was the chosen one for that night! But, in Roman times they didn’t do it using cell phones! And he left his number!

- Did you call him?

- Yes, I got the email around midnight. I tossed and turned in bed and at 2 a.m. I called him thinking he’d be awake…

- What was his reaction?

- Everyone thinks that artists go to bed late, that they’re bohemians. In the email he sent, he didn’t specify a time to call, so I called him at 2 a.m. By the tone in his voice, I could tell that I had woken him up. I said I’d call again another time. Without knowing really what to say, he said, “No problem…” But he immediately also said that he was surprised that I called at that time of night, that he wasn’t expecting it.

- …poor little artist… it doesn’t take much to surprise him…

- I told him that I was calling because he’d sent me an email with that contact number and that I was a little bothered by the recent emails he’d been sending. That’s when he said that his email account had been hacked by a woman who was stalking him.

- Do you think that’s true?

- No, I don’t think so. I asked him if he’d been getting my emails. He said no and added that he hadn’t sent or received any emails since September. I told him that in order to fix the situation all he had to do was change his password. To shut me up, he raised his voice in an authoritative manner and said that he’d already contacted the police about the matter.

- He must think he’s pretty important. Do you believe his story?

- When someone hacks, they’re not merciful about it! They want to be known and noticed for their hacking skills. A hacker would have done damage like attaching files that contain serious viruses or obtaining information to mess around with the person…. That’s what I think, anyway. The way he responded in his supposedly “hacked emails” was exactly the same way he himself would respond. There was no difference between his writing and the hacker’s. So, no, I don’t think there’s any woman hacking his email account.

- He must think he’s really clever…

- Then I asked him if it would be possible to meet up again. I didn’t really explain myself well, but he got the picture… What I meant was meet up again to get to know each other better, hang out, personal contact…

- He said no, right?

- He’s not that forward. What he said was that now was not the time to ask those kinds of questions…

- He’s a liar, a manipulator. He’s not your type of guy, sweetie.

- I was really confused with the whole situation and so I asked him if I had really met him in May or if it had been someone who simply looked a lot like him. By my tone of voice, which obviously denoted my confusion, he understood that I was not kidding around. He must have found my insecurity to be quite amusing because I could tell he was smiling when he said, “Yes, it was me!” Then I asked him (and I don’t know where this crazy idea came from) if he wanted me to send him the emails that I had been exchanging with the girls from his guest book. His voice seemed to gain an excited, curious tone and quickly responded, “Yes, yes, send them!” Before he had denied knowing them at all and said he gave no importance to the messages he got on his guest book and now he wanted to see the emails?!!! Can you believe it?!!

- Did you send them?

- No, I didn’t. I wanted to protect the girls. He sent me an erotic email! Look at this extract: “I would like to know what you have to tell me about my songs. Love you in the breaks. Possess you. From behind. Hold you by the neck and hurting you, penetrate you. You say that you like it, although you suffer. Drink from me.”

- Honey, he’s talking about anal sex here! He’s definitely showing you who he is and what he likes… Do you need a fornicator who is surrounded by women? Done with the crepes! “Drink from me!”  The nerve of him! He must think he’s some sort of  bossy male! Poor thing! “Drink from me!” I’m going to drink an Irish coffee!!! Why do you have that pensive look on your face? Are you thinking about the anal sex thing?

- No. He can do whatever he wants with whomever he wants. I’m thinking about an email he sent. I deleted that one because it was such a stupid reply…

- What did he say?

- It was in reply to the October 9th email that I’d sent with the subject line: “Tsarinas.” You’ve got the emails, check it out. In that email I spoke vaguely about the feedback I’d gotten from some of his regular fans on his guest book to whom I corresponded with. He replied saying more or less that there were so many chicks after him that they were like flies around cow dung!

- What?!

- Exactly! There were so many chicks after him that they were like flies around cow dung!

- He referred to himself as cow dung?!!!

- I guess… What I’m surprised about is how a guy like that, who comes from a big city, knows that in fact, where there is cow dung, there are truly a lot of flies… especially if the dung is fresh! And if it’s in the sun, better yet! I’ve got a lot of farm animals and they don’t use the bathroom like we mortals do, they shit wherever it lands and I’ve seen the abundant numbers of flies that gather…

- He lives in the city, but maybe he spent his childhood on a farm. Who knows? He’s got a good sense of humor! If you believe in God, you already know: “God writes straight on crooked lines!” Who knows if something good will eventually come out of all of these stupidities? You did spend a lot of time on the emails you sent the singer… You like to write, right? So, keep writing until you get fed up…

- I feel like having another crepe, how about you?

- Ok. Let’s do it, sweetie!

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